


May Flowers Bloom Wherever You Wander

by PinkAfroPuffs



Series: Fate/Slutty Meme Magus [13]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Dream Demon, F/M, Forbidden Snacks, Gift Giving, I am not immune to Gilgamesh., Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, and too horny to die, fetish mention, he will never stop, he's too horny to live, should i even keep tagging these fetish mention. its merlin....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22729858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkAfroPuffs/pseuds/PinkAfroPuffs
Summary: There is a saying that love is one of the most ordinary magics that exists. It isn’t like those that existed in the Age of Gods; it has neither increased or decreased in power, and always, suspiciously, pops up when one seems to need it most. The taste of chocolate- of black tea, of chili and soup, and cookies- are in no way connected to love. But they are. In every drop of water- every moment spent braiding one’s hair and making them a cup of coffee- there is love in every motion and interaction in such an imperative way that it becomes hard to perceive.Sometimes, that is all one needs. To perceive.
Relationships: Fujimaru Ritsuka/Merlin | Caster, Merlin | Caster/Original Character(s)
Series: Fate/Slutty Meme Magus [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1445371
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	May Flowers Bloom Wherever You Wander

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hokey and corny and cringey but I hope everyone enjoys this last Merlin fic! Yes this really is the last! The slutty meme magus series is now COMPLETE!
> 
> Merlin hit bond 10 like. A few days after I finished Alone Together, so this one...this one was begging to be written!
> 
> Happy Valentine's~! I made a deadline! I am! Indomitable!!!

There are many ways in which love is both beautiful and mysterious, and Merlin wishes to consume them all. He knows that he can’t, though, and that he can only experience second-hand things by stealing them and eating them from others’ dreams, so he finds himself content to carve out a space in those dreams and experience a “reality” that others cannot. 

It is the best and worst he can do. After all, he is an incubus. He has no real bearing on the real world past being a reliable guide and big brother in a pinch. 

….or he was supposed to be. Actually, now that he thought about it, as he sat in front of his laptop chomping on a Forbidden Snack, he began to wonder when the last time he’d been held to that standard was. Maybe the last time Artoria had spoken to him, six weeks ago? Mm...though that in itself had been its own kind of trial-

“Hmm.” He mused, leaning close to the screen, then chomped down on another one of the blue quintessence particles. “Should I say, ‘Oh Blackbeard! I think I’ve fallen in love with you’? He’s getting restless.”

From behind him, Ifumi tugged a bit harder on his long, iridescent hair, which she was taking her time braiding. Clearly, she thought the answer was in bad taste. Boo. “If you do that while pretending to be Helena, I really will have to jettison you back to Avalon.”

“Oof,” he chuckled nervously. “I see your point.... Goodness, catfishing this guy is starting to get really boring! He goes for any bait, and that’s just no fun…hm. Or maybe he just has too many obvious fetishes?”

“I told you, I already unsummoned him eight times, and each time he promised to be better,” she murmured, humming as her fingers threaded through his hair. “So this time, this is real punishment. I’m in favor of sucking him dry.”

“Harsh!”

“I’m a fair person!” Ifumi protested. “Anyway, I’d like a boat, since you never got me that watch from Lancelot.”

He chuckled a bit, glancing at her over his shoulder as he did. “Now, now, I’m quite talented at this, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to get you a boat. Besides, it doesn’t even compare to a watch in value!”

“Some watches are worth boats!” She protested. “...probably. Why don’t you just think of it as a challenge!” Then, a bit irritated, “And remember to give Helena a cut of the profits.”

Merlin had begun to realize that Ifumi’s capacity for love was so strong that her capacity for hatred was almost stronger. “Wouldn’t it be easier just to hit him? I’m sure it would be more gratifying and a bit less cruel.”

“ _You_ catfished Roman for a full year, even when he was six rooms away from you!” She exclaimed, bewildered. “Where did you get morals from?!”

He smiled cheekily, already knowing she’d hate the answer. “Well, you, of course~ Who else would I get them from?”

A snort of laughter escaped her. “You only grow morals when _I_ want to do something sleazy!”

“I haven’t grown anything!” He protested. “I just think you’d regret doing this for longer, is all.”

“And you?”

“Oh, no, not me,” Merlin smiled, checking the previous messages for hints that Blackbeard might be willing to give up his treasure for a couple of feet pics. “I’m having loads of fun. Besides, I don’t have a conscience!” 

“...hmm.” Was all she said in response, then flipped his finished braid over his shoulder, which whacked him on the cheek.

“Oh-”

“Fine. But I still want a boat,” he could hear her pouting just before she stopped to press a kiss to his cheek and she stood to slip out of the room. 

He sighed to himself, thinking about how amusing the entire thing was, shaking his head to the empty room and blaring computer screen. “What a gold digger,” he tutted, then promptly asked Blackbeard for a boat.

* * *

It’s a wonderful day in Okeanos, and Merlin was a horrible magus. 

Thinking that it was quite nice out and the lighting was good for a picnic, he hummed and packed one up, and, when he had the last of his ingredients, realized something was missing.

“Ah!” He said aloud, one finger in the air as though he’d remembered. How silly of him to forget the most important part!

Once that was done, he readied the rayshift and packed everything into the coffins; after touching down, cargo in tow, and assuring himself that the scenery was perfect, (a seaside view of the sunrise just under a particularly shady tree) he started setting up. Pleased, he knelt onto the blanket and nudged the rest of the cargo, which was wrapped in a blanket so tightly that it looked like a burrito. If he wanted to be specific about details, the blanket wasn’t simply ‘cargo’ but the ‘date’ for the picnic, completely lost in the realm of sleep to the point of snoring. 

She looked rather peaceful while sleeping; Merlin thought more than once that she slept rather hard for someone who could easily jolt into action at the drop of a hat, but was sort of pleased that she could still sleep like the dead after having so many dangerous adventures. Well, not like the dead, he supposed. If Shimosa had brought anything to his attention, it was that she most certainly _should not_ sleep like the dead- ah, but that was something else entirely. A bit more insistent at remembering it, he nudged her again. “Ifuuuumi~ It’s morning! Wake up, dear.”  
The young Master groaned from her little burrito, eyes still shut. “No. I’m tired.”

Aw. A little laugh escaped him. “Good morning ‘tired’!” Then, in a quieter voice, he leaned close, chuckling, “I’m Merlin~!”

When she finally opened her eyes, the annoyed look she gave him was rather severe. 

He sort of shrugged, leaning away from her. An idea came to him rather quickly- or, he should say, one of the backup plans he had in store to begin with. “Well, fine! If you just want to sleep, I won’t bother you anymore.” Then, once turned away from her, he sighed to himself, shaking his head as he rubbed his chin. “I’ll have to figure out what to do with all of this food by myself...especially the gourmet cheeses and bite sized desserts…” 

The shuffling behind him caused him to glance back; with a kind of wild look in her brown eyes, Ifumi Rockwell shrugged halfway out of her burrito and mumbled, “Evil bastard.” Then, louder, “Where’s the cheese?!”

* * *

It would one day be her undoing that he knew her weaknesses. 

It was, after all, how he’d gotten her to wear the clothing he’d brought for her- as he’d abducted her in her pajamas and Rayshifted them away, he’d carefully selected a Mystic Code for her to wear for the occasion. In this case, it was her combat uniform (as he very much liked the nice window of cleavage he got to look at and he hadn’t seen her wear it since being in Uruk). Hands propping up his chin, he watched in interest as she delicately ate a bit too much cheese in the early morning, sighing wistfully as she snatched some of the bread and wine from inside of the basket. Almost like clockwork, she suddenly began eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Is this some kind of fetish of yours?” She asked, peeking at him. “Or maybe you did something you don’t want me to find out about?”

He smiled. It was honestly neither of those things, but to spice things up he said, “Mm...maybe, maybe… Are you leaning more towards the feeding fetish...or that I’ve done something wrong?” 

“Both,” she huffed, though she kept eating. 

“You seem to trust me enough not to drug the food,” he mused.

“I figured you’d rather take a sneakier approach,” the crunch of the cracker indented her words. “Like convincing me to rest my head in your lap so I’d sleep easier and you’d invade my dreams again.”

A smile pulled at his lips, despite himself. “Aww. You don’t like it when I visit you at night?”

She bit down a bit harder on the cracker, obviously not keen on answering the question. “Why Okeanos?”

“...hmmm.” He hummed, shifting his weight. “Well, I thought,” he shaded his eyes, looking past her and out to the view in the distance, “that the view here in the morning is a bit too nice not to share with someone.” He gave her a little smile. “Oh, but I can take you back to Chaldea if you want! It’s not like it’s special or anything. The sun rises and sets every day on its own, you know.”

Her eyelashes fluttered just a bit; she was probably still a bit tired from the whole trip, seeing as he’d kidnapped her in her sleep and all, and he wondered if it was affecting her ability to chastise him. In which case he would have to do this sort of thing more often, as to get away with his foolishness. After a while, her eyes settled on him again, shaking her head a bit as she did. “That doesn’t make it any less special.”

Didn’t it? Wouldn’t one take a recurring phenomena for granted, even if it was beautiful every time they saw it? Or at least, he was sure humans did. There was something peacefully ordinary about a sunrise that was in no way like a sunset; the beginning of a day, instead of the end, was always a sight to behold, and even from his tower he occasionally woke at daybreak just to see it. “Proof of existence,” he said aloud with a bit of a smile. “So I suppose not, mm?” He sighed a little his eyes flickering between she and the sunrise; picturesque as the golden orange of sunlight brushed against the brown of her skin, her lips parted as she turned her head to take a better look. 

“It _is_ pretty great,” she agreed, sighing some. “But what about the picnic?”

Merlin shrugged, shifting to sit up. “Must there be a good reason for it? Is it not enough to feed a pretty girl and watch her sigh wistfully at the sunrise?”

She was trying rather hard not to smile; he knew his charm worked on her almost every time, despite her demeanor, and regardless of how hard she fought about it or debuffed him, he would always win in the end. But then she said, “Yes. And I’ll find it soon enough,” her smile never waning.

Merlin pouted just a bit. Admittedly, she was right not to trust him, but at times like this, when it was simply this- a nice picnic by the seaside- it really harshed the romantic vibe. “Seriously~!” he whined, then muttered, “This is the problem with responsible girls, they never know when to have fun-”

A grape plinked him in the face. “You’re the most renowned scam artist in history! And the last time you rayshifted us somewhere, the rest of Chaldea couldn’t find us for a week!”

Hm, yes, that _had_ been an issue, hadn’t it… “It wasn’t my fault that Shinjuku’s singularity jammed the signal,” he answered nonchalantly. “Anyway, we aren’t in Okeanos for no reason.”

“We aren’t?” Her eyebrows rose. “Why are we here, then?”

He turned his gaze to her, measuring her reaction; the light of the sunrise shining in her eyes made her seem younger than she was, and for a moment he memorized the excitement dancing in them as they narrowed. After a beat, he shrugged, “For a picnic, of course!”

“Merlin!”

“Oh, right, and something about a boat?” He mused, rubbing his chin. “I can’t quite remember...ah, well, it’ll come to me later.”

“Boat?!” She shouted, crawling across the blanket until she was close enough to kiss. “What do you mean boat?! Are you saying-”

“Hmmm?” He smiled. “For the answer, you’ll have to give me something~”

“Merlin!” She shouted, and his smile only widened. “Oh, for-” Without thinking about it, she smacked a kiss right on his lips as though it was a formality, and then said, “Now tell me!”

Cheap! “What kind of kiss was that?!” He found himself shouting, suddenly agitated for no reason. “Either you pay the proper toll or you don’t find out!”

“I’m not a prostitute! I’m not going to sleep with you for you to tell me a secret!” She hollered.

“I didn’t ask for that,” he told her in a much calmer tone. “Besides, having sex on a boat sounds more fun and-”

“Just take me to the boat!” 

So he did. Even then, when she saw it with her own eyes, making cooing sounds and running her fingers across the bow and throwing her hands in the air as she stared up at the sails, he wasn’t sure why there was so much pride welling in his chest. 

“I didn’t think you would actually do it!” Ifumi cried, her hands so high in the air that she might fall back and lose her balance. “...oh...but I feel guilty now. Isn’t a pirate’s pride his ship? And it’s his Noble Phantasm...”

“He gave it up for Helena’s tiddy pics,” Merlin reminded her. Frankly, it was a bit too easy to get- which was saying something, as Merlin was usually into catfishing for the challenge (other than the trolling), but even _he_ wouldn’t have given up a whole ship for some boobs, and he was the champion of horny discomfort. “Should you really feel so bad after everything?” As though giving her persuasion, he glided past her and towards the captain’s quarters, which was filled with riches and pillows of exotic sorts. “Mm...this looks interesting. Much easier for us to use than him, I think.”

“Ah?!” She cried, rushing past him, and catapulting directly into the mass of pillows. Her muffled voice came from beneath them as she snuggled up in an oversized pink one. “I can’t believe this...you know we’re going to have to give it back to him later, right?”

“Mm...maybe…” He agreed. “But he’s in the freezer for now, you know? So I doubt he’ll remember.”

“Freezer? Why?”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “someone told Circe he thought she was an ‘old loli’ so she turned him into a pig and hung him up in the freezer for a few hours to cool off.” Of course that person had been him. 

Ifumi’s mouth made a perfect O, her eyes sparkling as she slid neck-deep into the pillows. “I love you!” 

A simple thing to say, for sure. An offhanded comment- especially in this era- that probably meant nothing more than ‘thank you’, and he took comfort in it. He chuckled and shrugged a little, then said, “Now then, why don’t we see if this is as comfortable as it looks?”

As he’d planned, she was more obliging after being given a huge gift, so the little tryst had worked itself out. Even after they rayshifted back to Chaldea and the afterglow had worn off, it was a pleasant memory, even as he (purposely) forgot to give Blackbeard his boat back (what? The man hadn’t asked, so it was fine to assume that he didn’t miss it yet!) and went about his normal job of messing with everyone in Chaldea as much as he could.

That had been three days ago. Occasionally, he picked out his favorite bits of the adventure- as he tended to do, when romping around with heroes- but for some reason, rather than the many other reasons why the date had been a success, one particular phrase popped up and he found himself puzzled over it.

_“I love you!”_

It had not been the first, nay, not even the second or third time he’d been told it by a human (or, in Artoria’s case, a human of sorts), and it was not the first, second, or third time he’d thought it was wrong. Each time he encountered it- save that one other time- Merlin had again remembered that his true self was unknown to most humans- and that those who knew it could not say those words.

And yet-

_“I love you!”_

He had been sitting on the ground and watching a mentos-coke prank from a safe distance when it echoed through his brain, and even when he tried to figure out what that nonsense was about, he’d forgotten it the moment Bedivere opened the shaken up mentos-coke for Nursery Rhyme and covered his face and hair in sticky, carbonated pop. 

Hm. Strange.

It had happened once more when he was filling a water bottle with clear alcohol to give to Leonidas after a workout- the young Master had passed by in the middle of it, and he’d innocently made the pass off before anyone realized Leonidas was drinking Vodka at a rate that one might chug a sports drink- and he’d wondered again why it kept coming up with no real trigger. 

_“I love you!”_

He sat up in his bed and crossed his arms across his chest, contemplating it. 

She loved him???

No, no, that wasn’t right. Surely, he _had_ expected something like this at some point- humans got attached to things and people and ascribed human traits to them, including things like love (and that was really all he understood about it)- but hearing it gave an indescribable feeling-

To be sure, he did sense _something_ for her- the habitual need to cling to her side and bother her at a certain time of day, the calm when in her presence, occasionally a lazy sort of feeling that came from lying in front of a warm fire for too long, and the flush of pride he felt from making her laugh- those things weren’t _unlike_ love, but they certainly less grand than _that_ , and-

Hm. Had he eaten too many of her emotions? That could be the problem. Really, he was too greedy to be around humans in the first place, and while that wouldn’t stop him from doing it, it _had_ created all sorts of problems, like with women and food…

Ah! Of course, of course. It was just that! He’d eaten enough of her emotions to have found a moral or two! That was troublesome. He didn’t want to feel _guilty_ about anything; boy, it had been a long time since he’d experienced that one! Well, he had to rectify it somehow, even if it meant doing something without her knowing about it. So, Merlin did what he always did when he wanted to solve- or start- problems:

He went to sleep.

* * *

Though Ifumi Rockwell wasn’t unaccustomed to having dreams, lately she’d had soundless, visionless slumber. She assumed it meant she was sleeping well; somewhere, someone had told her that having vivid dreams may mean that she was never really in as deep a sleep as she supposed, and that her “constantly tired” state had much to do with it- but she didn’t altogether mind it. The best stories- and fantasies- usually came up in dreams, and she was happy to indulge the hidden secrets of her heart.

Tonight, she was having a tea party. Gilgamesh was there. It was a rather strange tea party, as the Caster (not Archer, thank goodness) was in a chair much too small for him, and had his arms crossed across his bare chest, eyes closed as his non-existent ass was squished in the child-sized chair. 

“You call this swill _tea_?!” He chastised, though he sounded almost as though he pitied her, despite the bravado. “Hah! Even in this dreamworld, your imagination is limited.” 

“Well, your majesty,” she said, as she always did before she said something she might regret, “if it’s fine with you, you can drink this piss I’ve prepared instead. Or go home.”

“Speaking to me in such a way,” he snapped, “you must not value your life. Fine. I suppose I must show you how proper tea is made and how it must taste as a final product!”

As the portals to his treasury began opening, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye; a rather familiar looking figure clad in a white kimono seemed to be snooping on their tea party, and before she could say anything, the golden king, rather disinterested, said, “An uninvited guest, offensive to the senses and unaccustomed to knowing his own place has found his way into your mind…” He waved his hand, as though giving permission. “Ifumi, if you must deal with him, do it quickly. I have no patience for it.”

“Oh, of course, I’ll give him a good wallop, your majesty!” She cried, and as she turned to “greet” him, the apparition that looked like Merlin only smiled. 

“What an orderly dream to intrude upon…” He murmured. “Well, leave it to an orderly girl to have a dream like this..!”

Her first thought was to question if it was really him; he had a horrible track record for popping up now and again, and though she never told him, she remembered quite a few instances in which she was _sure_ that it had really been him, and not a “Merlin” that she’d invented and copied from memory. Still, to be so blunt about picking on her like this, it was probably the real one. “You can’t have any tea,” was all she found herself saying, as it was a dream and sometimes things don’t go as planned.

“I can’t?” He was sitting at the table already, and though his chair, too, was child sized, knees almost up to his chest, he didn’t seem uncomfortable in it. In fact, his eyes were shining in amusement- or excitement? 

Oh, this _had_ to be the real him.

“You can,” she amended, then poured him some of Gilgamesh’s tea- which, as expected, smelled much better than her own. “But only a swallow.”

“How kind of you,” he teased, and she found herself sighing.

“You’re stupid,” she felt as though she’d dropped the teapot somewhere, though somehow it hadn’t broken on impact. “But I guess I have a thing for stupid men.”

“You should get your eyes checked,” Gilgamesh interjected, and Ifumi readily agreed.

“Maybe your brain as well,” Merlin offered, and without her lifting a finger, the tea splashed in his face. “Oh-”

“...if you wish to entertain this fool by punishing him, I do not mind it,” Gilgamesh offered. “But leave me out of your lovers’ quarrels.”

“Hm?” Were they having a lovers’ quarrel? “Are we having a lover’s quarrel?” She said then, her words already echoing across the walls of the cozy space.

“Mm...something like that,” Merlin admitted, and she frowned.

“I’m not fighting with you,” she began.

“Ah, but you draw conclusions too easily,” Merlin chided, one finger in the air. “You don’t hate me, right? That could change at aaaaany moment, you know,” he didn’t take his eyes off of her until he’d raised the cup to his lips, lids drooping as he took a long sip. “Mm, this is good, is this black tea?”

What was going on, exactly? “Are you here to give me nightmares?” She found herself asking. “I love you, but you have _got_ to stop that.”

Usually, a person’s face was the least clear bit of a dream, but for today- and only today, she thought- Merlin’s expression was impressively transparent. Much like a man who’d been struck like a bolt of lightning, he’d gone entirely still, the lines of his eyes and nose not quite scrunched in displeasure, but discomfort for sure. Though it only lasted an instant or so, an air of nonchalance replaced it rather quickly. “These are good sandwiches,” was all he said, and something about it was frustrating. Maybe it was that she hadn’t taken out the sandwiches yet...or had she? He was eating one.

“What are you thinking about?” She blurted out, grabbing a tray of what she knew would become assorted snacks that she’d never actually taste, and plunked them on the tiny table. 

“How do you know?” It sounded like a question that he’d contemplated for some reason. He hummed a bit, nabbing more snacks off of the tray. “Especially when, well,” he smiled at her smugly, “I don’t actually exist.”

She waited to be thrown back into reality when he said it; when she was not, she wondered why he’d said something so nightmarishly foolish to her face, especially while smiling at her as though it was a secret that only he knew. He meant the love thing, right? He had to. He was just too predictable for it not to be the case. 

“You can love things that don’t exist,” she found herself saying. “And anyway, you do exist. Maybe not like I do, but you exist.”

“How do you know?”

His words echoed off of the now-blank walls. When she peered up at them, the sense that the room had also gotten smaller suddenly came to mind, though a sort of calm was settled over her, and she didn’t panic. “I don’t. I don’t have to be sure of everything.”

“Hmmm,” was all he said. “That’s a good answer...why didn’t I think of that answer?” Suddenly he was muttering to himself about something that was both on the subject and off of it; after a fit of pique, he said, “Well, I guess I can accept that...mm, I’m taking more of these cookies, though. They taste like anxiety.”

So he really was feeding on her psyche as they spoke. “You’re trying to rile me up, but I already gave you permission to eat them,” she recalled. 

“Oh?” He smiled. “When?”

“When you ate my chili for the first time,” she answered, and the cookie hovered near the gaping hole of his mouth, unable to reach his tongue. “You told me, didn’t you? That you eat emotions. You can’t make anything without putting something into it, especially food.”

He closed his mouth, looking over at her with an interesting expression; not quite a smile and not quite a frown, his eyes sparkled with the kind of mischief she was used to and the kind of amusement that meant he wanted to praise her. “I see. You’re very clever...I seem to have forgotten that. Well, I suppose that’s it for me, then! I’ll see you in the morning, if you wake up!”

Foreboding. “...what do you mean ‘if’?”

“Fool,” said Gilgamesh, who was now towering over her, “tomorrow is not promised to anyone! Especially halfwits like you, who take on mongrels like _that_ half-breed for a lover!” 

She puffed out her cheeks. This was not the time to start picking on her. In fact, now, she was getting kind of annoyed at him again. “Would you rather I have taken you, my lord?”

“Idiot!” He cried, red eyes blazing. “It would not be you doing the taking!”

His laugh shocked her awake.

* * *

What would it mean to return her affections, exactly? Was it important? Mm, but there was a price for everything… Merlin contemplated this while he walked around Chaldea, past other Servants and then the remaining staff, one hand on his chin. 

He never said he couldn’t love. It was different, though, when he was borrowing others’ emotions, and it was in no way genuine (or so he had come to believe, given the sporadic results of such encounters), but for some reason Merlin felt very much like it would be sad to continue eating her love up and not giving it back. Besides, seeing her sad might make him sick. Negative emotions were good and all, but often the upset-stomach feeling that came with discomfort accompanied it, and he would rather simply eat treats (positive emotions) and the occasional nutritious “anxiety” or “pure unadulterated terror” (as one experiences after a mildly upsetting nightmare that gives one a glimpse into their Forbidden Fetishes).

Maybe it was something simple. What could he do for her that was simple? If she wanted to love him, there was nothing he could do about it- all the warnings in the world couldn’t dissuade a bullheaded woman like that- but he needed to settle his own matter in the meantime. If there was an emptiness there, she would eventually stop loving him, and, well….frankly, he liked the fluffy, warm feeling he experienced when she was near. It was like having a light orgasm. Or an intense one.

There were plenty of things that women liked- flowers, for example, or chocolates, things people passed around on Valentine’s (his favorite holiday)- but they felt rather bland after giving her a boat, so aloud, he mused, “Hmm...would Ifumi prefer new clothes? Or maybe an erotic painting from Hokusai-”

He said so while in the presence of one such universal genius, who was drinking her tea and glaring at him in a way that he all but ignored; it was no secret that Leonardo da Vinci hated him for reasons that she couldn’t control (after all, she couldn’t be the Best Caster while simply being a painter- that was _his_ title, and he never let her forget it), but he knew that if he said something helpless enough in her presence, while involving everyone’s favorite little Master, she’d help him without thinking about it.

“What’s that pile of non-burnable trash doing in my command room?” She said at first. “It’s not Holmes, so it isn’t sanctioned to be in this part of the building.”

“Oh, da Vinci, I didn’t see you there!” He lied, smiling widely. “Would you have time to help me with something?”

“I’d rather watch you make a fool of yourself,” she answered with a smile, rather chipper to admit it. 

“Really?” He asked slyly. “Mm...I suppose it’s warranted...but I feel bad for Ifumi, you know. I wouldn’t want to purposely upset her-”

She sort of smiled in that Mona Lisa way she usually did when she meant to frown, but refused to because of pride. “Really? If you do, she might realize how much better she can do than you.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that!” He half-lied. “You see, she’s rather taken with me~! But such powerful feelings should always be honored with a gift of some sort….though I suppose none really suit the problem.” He sighed a bit. “...I guess it’s better to give nothing.”

“Merlin, are you…” She squinted a bit at him, suddenly suspicious. Admittedly, she was another human who looked with more than just her eyes; it was rather interesting, though he wouldn’t say so, as da Vinci had made the right decision to hate him on principle, which was courageous enough as it was.

“Oh, I’m not lying this time,” he agreed. “In fact, I’m perfectly confused! But, you know, this sort of thing can be fun too, from time to time.”

The most interesting smile quirked at the corner of Leonardo da Vinci’s lips as she drummed her fingers across the table in front of her; in a rather kind tone, she said, “A gift can be anything, you know.” She waved her hand a bit. “A poem, a song, a painting...words, even.” She folded her arms and leaned forward. “I wonder what words Ifumi would like to hear most…?”

What an interestingly terrible thing to say. He laughed a little. “Hoh? You want me to lie a little bit?”

At first da Vinci didn’t respond; for a moment she looked over at the door leading to her workshop in back, a muted smile on her lips as she sat in contemplative thought, and then, when she stood, she said, “I’d advise you to separate your own honesty and dishonesty before finding the words, or there could be trouble! And by trouble, I mean me.”

What a nice way to threaten him! “Duly noted,” he remarked. “Though I have to say, that was a rather artful threat! As expected from a Universal Genius.”

“I try,” she shrugged with a lazy smile. “Oh, but if you can’t find the words, I do have a lot of knick-knacks in my shop that I’m sure Ifumi would like...in fact, I’ve got a nice box of phoenix feathers with her name on it!”

* * *

He was a champion at bending the truth. This, too, wouldn’t be so hard, right? To say something that she wanted to hear- something she may _need_ to hear- and then go about his day?

...hm. But it didn’t feel that simple. In fact, when he went to do so, she was being bombarded by Servants for reasons he didn’t care to know about. If he said it in passing, she might catch it, think she was hallucinating and keep going, but that wouldn’t make it a gift! So, when they were alone, he said, “Why don’t we take a walk together? You look like you need a little break, hm?” 

A serious gaze met him; he wondered, not for the first time, what she was looking at, but she said, “Okay.”

When they walked, she pressed rather close to his side; clearly fatigued from the day (and maybe something else), she sighed and stopped short once they reached one of the big windows on the second floor. 

“Is something wrong?” He asked, though he knew very well that it was. 

At first she said nothing. Then, very carefully, “Why do you want me to hate you so badly?”

He paused. It was a rather strange thing to ask; he hadn’t been acting that way, had he? Rather, he was grateful for her affections-

“I remember most of my dreams, you know. Even when I’m in non-REM,” she informed him, and though it didn’t surprise him, he did close his eyes at the information. “For somebody so selfish, you sure are keen on warning me about yourself.”

Wasn’t it fair to warn someone away from danger? Anyway, that wasn’t the point, nor was it the reason for this-

“You don’t have to love me back,” she said suddenly. “I didn’t think I had to say it, but I was almost sure that it was the case. You don’t understand love, right? So even when you do feel it, you don’t recognize it as yours.”

He felt taken aback that she’d paid attention to his phrasing; he’d said ‘understand’ to absolve him of the wrongdoing of actually “loving” someone- he had “loved” after all, several times before- though each time was not quite “right” as he constantly said, as he was an incubus, and emotions were food-

“Also, because of you, Gilgamesh has been giving me nightmares!” This came out in a rather harsh whisper; hearing it sort of amused him, and when he glanced over at her, he found himself trying not to laugh. 

“Gilgamesh?” He asked with a chuckle. “And why is that?”

“His laugh keeps waking me up!” She hissed. “And that thing about ‘taking’- I’m not into that! I don’t want that man anywhere near my-” Then Ifumi waved her hand. “Stop laughing! This is _your_ fault!”

But he couldn’t. It was such a strange thing. How could the most nightmarish part of his romp in her dreams have been the king of heroes?

….ah, well, maybe it wasn’t a far fetched thing, but-

“...regardless.” She turned her head. “You can just keep eating my love. I’m not going to stop giving it to you.”

Something hot flashed in his chest. It was not a comfortable feeling, or even that mildly tingly, nervous, and slightly horny feeling he occasionally experienced when she told him a meme or laughed at one of his jokes (discomfort that felt very much like a bunch of infant worms incubating and bursting into adulthood in his stomach), but it was instead a rather violent flash of irritation that itched at the back of his neck. 

“What a pitiful thing to say,” he murmured aloud. “...I really must do something about this.”

“What?” 

“You know,” he informed her without thinking, “originally, I only came here because I was curious. You were having so much fun, you see, and I hate being left out!” A strange kind of calm overcame him. “But you’ve become an important part of my life. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Her eyes widened in the most delightful way; mouth opening just slightly in surprise, he mentally took note of her genuine speechlessness as it fluttered at her eyelashes and quivered at the full pout of her mouth. 

“Hmm.” He said, eyes flickering to the ceiling. “Oh! That reminds me of something. I have a secret, you see.” Slyly, he smiled at her. “Do you want to know what it is?”

Her mouth closed. Eyebrows pulling together in wariness, she said, “Is it something terrible?”

“Mm...maybe.” He admitted, then leaned close to her ear, his voice no louder than a whisper as he told her, “I love you too.”

Then, very hastily, he took off in the opposite direction.

* * *

There is a saying that love is one of the most ordinary magics that exists. It isn’t like those that existed in the Age of Gods; it has neither increased or decreased in power, and always, suspiciously, pops up when one seems to need it most. The taste of chocolate- of black tea, of chili and soup, and cookies- are in no way connected to love. But they are. In every drop of water- every moment spent braiding one’s hair and making them a cup of coffee- there is love in every motion and interaction in such an imperative way that it becomes hard to perceive. 

Ifumi is aware of this. To her, love is the only constant, and the only magic that she has full knowledge of.

But knowledge isn’t enough, is it? Even when living out of books and studying diagrams, one can never surmise the true quality- or power- of love. The substance that has formed human communities and kept the race itself going- is there anything more magical than a something that everyone possesses? Everyone has it. From the greatest to the least, everyone- even a half-human magus who eats dreams for sustenance- has the capacity to give and receive love.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Ifumi asked. “I mean, you’re not all that...uhm. We’re going to Salem. You heard, right?”

“Oh, I heard,” answered Merlin, lazing on the futon in the common room. “I’m incredibly prepared.”

“...you’re wearing a crop top that says ‘Neighborhood Menace’ on it.” She remarked.

“ _Overly_ prepared,” he responded with a wink. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She took a deep breath. The very idea of Salem gave her the shakes, after all. An America before her time, when the only people who looked like her were slaves- and the first accused of crime were much of the same. “I’ll be fine. At least _I’m_ dressed for battle.”

“Oh, this?” He blinked, tilting his head. “You didn’t know I use a glamour?”

She contemplated this for a second, her eyes travelling past the sharp point of his ears and nails to the slitted pupils of his eyes. “I did, but maybe I forgot a little…”

His warm smile put her off some; unabashed affection curled at his lips, enough to make her heartbeat quicken just enough to put her hands on her cheeks and frown at him. “An illusion only works for so long when you know what’s underneath it.”

“Alright, Neighborhood Menace, I get it,” she mumbled. “Are you going to behave this time around?”

“Oh, absolutely!” He lied through his teeth, grinning at her like a cheshire cat. “In fact, I can’t wait to be waterboarded! Or was wax play more common in this period….hm.”

“You’re too horny about everything,” she told him, gently squishing his cheeks with her hands.

“Awww,” he chuckled, eyes sparkling. “But you love me, right?”

She bit her lip and thought about it as she stared into the purple of his irises, searching for the honesty she needed to be sure. When she found it, she sighed, “I do.”

His only response was a ridiculously smug (and genuinely delighted) smile that took up his whole face. Too cute.

 _“Master Ifumi, we’re ready for you in the Command Room. Prepare for debriefing!”_ DaVinci’s voice came over the speaker, and Ifumi adjusted her gloves.

“Do I look okay?” She asked him. Something about this particular singularity- and what might follow- felt like something dangerous creeping up her neck. 

“Hmm…” He mused. “Let me see…ah!” After a beat he held up a pink belladonna flower and tucked it into her afro on the right side near her ear. “Perfect!”

She wished it wasn’t so easy for him to make her smile, but sometimes the simplest of things are the most important. “...you know, you have to get up too.” 

“You can’t rush perfection!” He insisted, though soon he was trailing behind her, gliding about in robes he wasn’t actually wearing. “Come, come, we’ve a Singularity to correct and humanity to save!” He took her hand to guide her out- as though he was waiting on _her_!- and they headed to the command room.

Now, dear readers, this author knows what you’re thinking! There are many perils that follow; for instance, a certain something at the beginning of a new year, the loss of a loved one, a startling trip down a steep mountain... but for us, this is the last page of this story, a book that’s been read cover to cover. For the two have found one another and created the most ordinary magic of all- love.

This is the end of their fairy tale at the end of the world (erm, in Antarctica), and there’s nothing more to it than that.


End file.
